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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29030697">As a Wave to Shore</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnendingMiracles/pseuds/Unending%20Miracles'>Unending Miracles (UnendingMiracles)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anne with an E (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anne is Angry, F/M, First Kiss, Gilbert is confused, Happy Ending, Jealous Gilbert Blythe, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Snowed In, That boy sure does love her hair, bash ships it, oh look a conversation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:08:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,938</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29030697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnendingMiracles/pseuds/Unending%20Miracles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know as well as I do that it’s not safe to walk all the way to Green Gables in a storm like this, and it’s only going to get worse. If you hitch up the buggy now, though, you should make it alright.”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Bash,” Gilbert responded.</p><p>-------------------------</p><p>Gilbert never saw Diana Barry on the train, and so he never learned about Anne's letter. Anne never spoke with Winnifred, so she never learned the true contents of his. Four months later, they're both home for Christmas break and both avoiding one another. But when a winter storm forces a long buggy ride followed by an evening snowed in, will the truth finally come out?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>345</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Halo Round the Moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s starting to get bad out there,” Gilbert said, removing his gloves and unbuttoning his coat as he walked into the kitchen. “I haven’t seen a storm like this since I was 11; we were snowed in for two days and it was more than a week until school reopened.” </p><p>“We’d better make sure we have plenty of firewood in, maybe put out some extra feed for the horses tonight,” he continued as he moved to put the kettle on before turning to face his brother, noticing for the first time the look on Bash’s face. “What? What’s going on? Do I have something on my face?”</p><p>Bash eyed Gilbert speculatively from his seat at the kitchen table, watching his reaction as he said “If it’s really that bad out, you’ll have to take Anne home.” He was exceptionally proud of the fact that the corner of his mouth quirked for only the briefest moment when Gilbert’s head snapped up. “Anne’s here?”</p><p>“She was watching Dellie while I fixed the fence in the north field; it took a bit longer than I expected so she’s upstairs putting her down now. You know as well as I do that it’s not safe to walk all the way to Green Gables in a storm like this, and it’s only going to get worse. If you hitch up the buggy now, though, you should make it alright.”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Bash,” Gilbert mumbled, busying himself with getting the tea ready and avoiding his brother’s eye. </p><p>When Anne hadn’t answered his letter, Gilbert had told himself that it was fine, that he meant it when he had said that he didn’t expect her favour. But while he had prepared himself to hear that she could never feel the same about him, he wasn’t at all prepared for no response whatsoever. He just hadn’t considered that she might care so little about him that she would simply ignore him, and when he realised that was the case he had been utterly heartbroken. Four months in Toronto had done little to ease the ache, and when he had returned to Avonlea for the Christmas break he was torn between desperately hoping to see her and desperately hoping not to. He thought he might just be able to work himself up to spending Christmas Day with the Cuthberts, but that would be a busy, bustling day surrounded by family. He certainly wasn’t prepared for a quiet ride to Green Gables, alone with her.</p><p>“Why not?” Bash interrupted his thoughts, “Worried that she’ll start goin’ on about the ‘unending beauty of winter’ and  you’ll confess your undying love?”</p><p>“Bash,” he started, the warning in his tone evident as he strained to keep his voice low.</p><p>“Or that she’ll shiver all pretty and you won’t be able to resist puttin’ your arm ‘round her and holdin’ her real close to keep her warm?”</p><p>“She’ll hear you!” Gilbert hissed. “You <em>know</em> I would never lay a finger on her. After the letter...” He stopped suddenly, swallowing hard and looking away. He didn’t mind Bash’s teasing most of the time, they were brothers, that’s what brothers do. But this, to joke so casually about something that he knew Gilbert wanted so desperately, something Bash <em>knew</em> he could never have...</p><p>Gilbert hadn’t told anyone about the letter he had written to Anne when he left it, not even Bash. It wasn’t until the night he received his acceptance to U of T, a night that should have been spent in celebration, that Bash came upon him on the porch with a bottle of whiskey and an empty glass. It was that night that he finally told Bash everything; how he loved her so much he sometimes felt like he couldn’t breathe with it. How he knew, he <em>knew,</em> he could never love anyone else. How he had to tell her, just once, just because she deserved to know that she was <em>perfect</em>. </p><p>How she hadn’t even cared enough to respond. </p><p>Bash had clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing once, before disappearing inside the house, only to reappear with another glass. They didn’t say much else that evening, just slowly emptied the bottle as they stared out at the orchard. At some point Gilbert realised that he was looking toward Green Gables, toward Anne - that he would always orient himself to Anne. He finally hung his head, letting the tears come as Bash put an arm around his shoulder and said only “I know, brother...I know.” The next morning Bash greeted him with a solemn nod and a mug filled with the strongest coffee he had ever tasted. Gilbert nodded back, and they hadn’t spoken of it since. </p><p>So Gilbert couldn’t understand how Bash could tease him about it now. Of course, he didn’t know that in the months since Gilbert had left for Toronto, Bash had come to suspect - and admittedly, to hope - that he was wrong when he said Anne didn’t care about him. He wouldn’t claim to know exactly what Anne felt for Gilbert, but anyone with eyes in his head could see that she certainly felt <em>something</em>. </p><p>Gilbert had said that he had told her that he hadn’t proposed in his letter, but she never asked about his plans, and she was so obviously shocked the first time Bash mentioned Toronto. He remembered the way her eyes had flashed and then gone carefully blank when he explained that, after his <em>acquaintance</em> with Miss Rose had ended, Gilbert had applied to U of T as a late admission. She made an excuse to leave soon after that. And of course, there was the time Gilbert had begged him to give Anne his address in the hope that maybe, now that some time had passed, she would write to him. When Bash had offered it to her, insisting that Gilbert would love to hear from her, she had flushed to the roots of her hair, quietly taking the piece of paper and turning away without a word. No, he was certain that Anne was anything but indifferent to Gilbert.</p><p>Thus, each occupied with their own thoughts, the two men didn’t notice the footsteps coming down the hallway, or hear Anne’s sharp gasp when she heard Gilbert say words “after the letter.” She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help but overhear. Since they had last seen one another over four months ago, a small but eternally hopeful part of her had come to wonder if perhaps she had misunderstood Gilbert’s letter. If maybe, just maybe, she had pieced it together incorrectly. After all, he hadn’t married Winnifred, had he? She couldn’t help but wonder, couldn’t help but <em>hope,</em> that maybe that meant something.</p><p>Until now. She stood frozen, one hand pressed heavily to the wall, the other on her stomach as she bent forward. Here it was, proof that he had received her letter - <em>had discussed it with Bash!</em> - but hadn’t felt the need to reply in person. <em>“I guess he didn’t think I was worth it,”</em> she thought. And to hear him declare that he would “never lay a finger on her” was like a physical blow. She had offered him her heart, and there could now be no doubt that he had discarded it along with her letter. </p><p>The well-worn pain of his rejection was brought back to a jagged edge by this new humiliation, and she knew that it was too much, too deep for her to deal with now. So she did what she had so many years of experience doing - she buried it, allowing it to give way to a protective anger that would enable her to walk out the door with her dignity intact. She stood for a moment, closing her eyes and breathing in slowly, before she rolled her shoulders, lifted her head, and walked confidently into the kitchen. </p><p>-------------</p><p>Gilbert and Bash continued, unaware of the woman silently making her way toward them. Gilbert took a steadying breath before continuing “Bash, you know I can’t do this. Can’t you take her?” </p><p>“Take me where?” Anne said steadily, giving nothing away as she fixed the men with an even gaze. </p><p>“Queen Anne! We were just talking about you!” said Bash. “The storm’s hit earlier than we thought, and with no one at Green Gables to make sure you get back safe, Blythe was just sayin’ that he would take you home.”</p><p>“Or Bash can take you, if you would rather... I mean, if you don’t…” Gilbert’s hand shot to the back of his neck as he faltered, unsure of how to continue and, in any case, distracted beyond reason by this newly transformed Anne. Gilbert had always thought her beautiful, and could finally admit to himself that his love for her brilliant red hair was probably bordering on the unhealthy. But still, this…</p><p>He knew that she wouldn’t have gone to Queens in her old schoolhouse pinafore and twin braids. Logically, he knew that. And there were fashionable young ladies in Toronto, he knew vaguely what they looked like. So he had absolutely no explanation for his reaction to her long skirt, upswept hair and newly-corseted figure other than to say that she was stunning, and therefore he was stunned. </p><p>There. Logical. </p><p>“If I don’t what?” snapped Anne as she walked to the window. She was shocked by the sight before her - the storm really was noticeably worse than it had been when she had last looked outside, already several inches deep and starting to blow; there would be no making her way home on foot. </p><p>“Actually, Blythe, I need to stay here - with Mama and Elijah visiting the Bog for the weekend I’m the only one to look after Dellie, and if she wakes up she’ll want her Papa. Anne doesn’t mind, do you Anne?”</p><p>“Of course not,” she said, in a tone that rather indicated she did mind, before turning to Gilbert.</p><p>“Whenever you’re ready, then?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Simple Stillness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much to everyone who read the first chapter of my little story, I'm so pleased you're enjoying it! It's almost entirely written with just a bit of editing to do, so I should be posting steadily</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wouldn’t be fair to call Gilbert’s removal to the barn an escape, not really. More of a tactical retreat - he knew that he was defeated and he saw no reason to stand his ground. And so, as soon as it was agreed that the only possible course of action was for him to take Anne home in the buggy, he retreated to the barn to hitch up Penny and prepare for the journey (and <strong>not</strong> to hide. Definitely not). </p>
<p>“Ready to go?” Bash interrupted his thoughts, Anne entering the barn behind him. </p>
<p>“Yeah, um, yes - we should definitely get going, the snow is getting worse and it’s already getting hard to see properly,” he replied, cursing himself for sounding like such a bumbling idiot.</p>
<p>Not looking in his direction, Anne approached the buggy with her head held high, a certain queenish attitude in her step, but she faltered momentarily when she realised that she would need a hand up. Just a few months ago she would have climbed in easily on her own, but her long skirt and corset made the idea rather less appealing. </p>
<p>Ever the gentleman, Gilbert began to step toward her, reaching out a hand for just a moment before he quickly turned away and busied himself with the tack. He might be able to convince himself that the ride to Green Gables would be bearable, perhaps even pleasant, but he knew he couldn’t bear to be so near to her, to take her hand and help her up, knowing that she would be desperate to snatch it away again. </p>
<p>Anne, of course, saw this internal struggle written on his expressive face. She saw him step toward her before stopping short. She saw his jaw tighten, his hands clench then flex. She saw him turn away rather than help her, <em>“Rather than lay a finger on me,”</em> she thought. </p>
<p>She pushed down the hurt, focusing on drawing her shoulders back and lifting her chin ever-so-slightly as she approached the buggy with seeming confidence. “Bash, would you be so kind?” she said brightly, reaching out to him as he moved to help her up. When Gilbert joined her she moved her focus to arranging a warm wool rug over her lap, carefully ignoring Gilbert’s presence as she methodically smoothed out each and every crease before turning to him.</p>
<p>“Shall we?” </p>
<p>---------</p>
<p>The buggy moved silently through the storm. On a fine day the journey was quick, only 10 minutes or so to travel the relatively short distance to Green Gables. But the storm really was picking up, the heavy flakes falling thick and fast, and so Gilbert kept a slow but steady pace.</p>
<p>The ride went on in silence, even the horse’s hooves muffled by the thick blanket of snow on the ground. Gilbert had no idea what to say, and as the awkwardness continued his despair began to be tinged with frustration, even annoyance. He could tell that she was angry, a blind man at 30 paces could tell that she was angry, but he didn’t know <em>why.</em> It couldn’t be about him driving her home, any fool could see that it wasn’t safe to be out on foot, and Anne was certainly not a fool. Perhaps she thought he should have pushed harder to stay home with Dellie so that Bash could have taken her but, though it pained him to admit it, he really wasn’t sure that Delphine would have been comforted by him if she woke up and her papa wasn’t there, not after his long absence. </p>
<p>She couldn’t be angry about the letter, surely? He had told her that he didn’t expect anything from her, surely he had done nothing wrong in confessing his own feelings? But if she wasn’t angry, why had she never responded? Never written to him in Toronto? He had left the letter on impulse, but he hadn’t regretted it. Of course, that was when his worst fear had been her pity - he had never expected her indifference or, it would seem, her disdain.</p>
<p>Anne, for her part, was doing her level best to focus on her surroundings, rather than the well of hurt and anger inside her. She didn’t care to add humiliation to that mix, so she had no intention of telling Gilbert what she had overheard. That meant she needed to keep her temper in check, and so she focused on the snow, thanking the very heavens above for the glory of nature’s fierce display.</p>
<p>Gilbert tried to focus on driving the buggy, but he couldn’t help but notice Anne - he had never been able to help but notice Anne - watching the snow with a singular focus. “I’ve always loved the silence,” he said, desperate to say something, anything, to get her to look at him. But when she did just that, turning her ocean blue eyes on him with a kind of cold detachment, he swiftly stumbled. “Of the snow. I mean, not that the snow is silent, or really, I guess the snow is always silent, but the way it makes everything else quiet…” His hand started to move to the back of his neck, but his need to control the reins won out over his agitation and he went back to staring ahead, falling back into silence.  </p>
<p>“Yes,” Anne responded finally, also looking away. “I said something like that to Roy the other day. He said ‘I believe the wind during a storm is often said to howl, not to enhance the silence.’”</p>
<p>Gilbert’s stomach plummeted at the name so casually mentioned, a name he had seen all-too-often in letters from Moody. “Anne is already top of the class, of course, but she does have some competition. She and Roy seem to have a rivalry to rival yours (if you’ll forgive the expression)...”</p>
<p>“Ruby wasn’t sure about dancing when we attended the Freshers Ball, but she agreed when I pointed out that Roy had already escorted Anne to the floor…”</p>
<p>“Roy was at Blackmore House again when I visited today…”</p>
<p>So even though Gilbert knew that it was beneath him, in that moment he couldn’t bring himself to care as he replied with a quiet but evidently unhappy “Well, we wouldn’t want to ignore what <em>Roy</em> has to say.” </p>
<p>Anne peered at him a bit more closely as he stared decidedly at the road ahead. Was that? No, it couldn’t be, but it sounded distinctly like...jealousy. <em>“What right has he to be jealous?”</em> she thought incredulously. Not an hour ago he was proudly declaring that he would never so much as lay a finger on her, and now he was acting as though she had wronged him by simply mentioning another man! Well, if he was going to be so hypocritical, so <em>infuriating,</em> she would give him something to think about.</p>
<p>“Oh, no one ever ignores what Roy has to say!” she laughed lightly. “Roy - Royal, really, Royal Gardener, isn’t that the most romantic name? - comes to see me quite regularly and he always does just <em>command</em> the room. Well, I say regularly, of course suitors are only allowed to visit on Saturday afternoons. He often walks me to class, however - he’s ever so clever, in fact he’s currently second in our year,” Anne said brightly, congratulating herself on the fact that every single word that she had said was true. That Roy came to Blackmore House nearly every Saturday despite her rather pointed dissuasion was immaterial, as was the fact that she dreaded her walks to class with him because, while he had the mind of a poet, he had the sense of humour of a mop bucket. </p>
<p>Anne glanced at Gibert to see his jaw clenched in a way that she recognised all too well. <em>“Good,”</em> she thought. After all, <strong>he</strong> was the one who had broken <strong>her</strong> heart, not the other way around.  </p>
<p>“He invited me to join him for Christmas - I declined, naturally, and I did tell him he was rather bold! But of course, a girl does like a man who can speak his mind clearly and leave her in no doubt of his feelings,” she said cuttingly. “I would have loved to see his home, I must admit - you must have heard of the Gardeners, the shipping family? Roy is poised to take over the family business when he graduates, and he tells me their country estate is something truly splendid at Christmas.” She sighed, before adding quietly “Not that anything could compare to this enchanted silence,” holding out her hand to catch the snowflakes that were now beginning to swirl in the steadily increasing wind. </p>
<p>She took a deep breath in, turning briefly contemplative as the cold air filled her lungs and then escaped again with a dragon’s puff. “I must admit, though, that I agree with you. There is something to be said for a winter storm - the way it muffles everything, makes it small and secluded. Why, you and I could be the only two souls in the world right now, can you imagine?”</p>
<p>Gilbert rather thought he could imagine, only too well. But of course, they <em>weren’t</em> the only two souls in the world, there was also <em>Royal Gardener.</em> He knew he had no right to be jealous, but that didn’t stop his stomach from roiling or his jaw from clenching at her use of the word “suitor.” </p>
<p>“You know,” she continued, the otherworldly effect of the snow turning her pensive, “I spent so much of my time in Avonlea struggling against everyone’s perceptions of me. I know I’ve managed to change most minds, but still - who knew that someone out there might care for me not despite my quick tongue and red hair, but because of them?” </p>
<p>“I did, Anne-girl,” he replied softly, intently. </p>
<p>Her heart began to pound for the briefest moment before “never lay a finger on her” sprang unbidden to her mind. The nascent hope was swiftly replaced with devastation and then, thankfully, with the now-familiar anger. How dare he! How dare he speak to her like that, look at her like that, when he didn’t mean it! When he knew how she felt, how she still felt! Because, miserable though it made her, Anne couldn’t deny that she was still hopelessly in love with Gilbert Blythe. </p>
<p><em>“Hopelessly,”</em> she thought, <em>“how apt.”</em></p>
<p>They made the rest of the journey in silence.</p>
<p>-------------</p>
<p>It was amazing how quickly the storm worsened, the flakes falling thicker and faster every minute, the wind transforming from a laughing child pulling at their scarves to a bellowing bully, whipping at their cheeks and eyes. Soon the storm would reach a point of near complete whiteout, with any poor soul unfortunate enough to be out in it unable to see more than a few inches in front of them. Anne and Gilbert both knew that it was at that point that it would turn from dangerous to deadly, with people known to have frozen to death mere feet from their own front doors.</p>
<p>And so it was with very mixed feelings that Gilbert slowed the buggy outside Green Gables. Of course he was relieved to have arrived safely, and really he knew that the sooner he made the return journey home the better. On the other hand, he was painfully aware that he may never be alone with her again, and there was a part of him that wanted to fall to his knees in front of her, to beg her to explain why she never answered him, even if just to tell him she didn't feel the same. Even more, a part of him wanted to beg her to change her mind.</p>
<p>But he knew he couldn’t do that, it wouldn’t be fair. He had told her that he didn’t expect her favour and he meant it - but he still wanted it, still wanted <em>her.<em> And so he took a deep breath, trying to commit to memory what would surely be this final moment sat side by side, before jumping down. He moved swiftly to help her, knowing that her long skirts and the icy surface made a dangerous combination, caution which was borne out when she stumbled just as her feet touched the ground. She tilted precariously as he moved his arm around her waist, steadying her just as her head came up and their eyes met. Suddenly, the silence of the storm seemed tangible, physical, a barrier between them and the outside world as they stood there for several long moments. “Anne…” he started, his voice strained.</em></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>He didn’t know what he was planning to say, but even so he was grateful for the reprieve when a section of snow slid down from the Green Gables roof and hit the ground with a heavy thud. He slowly released her and, without a word, she turned and marched toward the house.</em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. As the Storm Gathers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once safely inside Anne moved immediately to the kitchen to bring the stove fire up while Gilbert built a fire in the sitting room hearth. He noted with satisfaction the logs piled high in the corner. With Matthew and Marilla staying overnight in Charlottetown, Matthew must have brought in extra to protect Anne against what promised to be a bitterly cold night. </p>
<p>With nothing left to do, and the storm growing heavier every minute, Gilbert finally went to find Anne, as ready as he would ever be to say goodbye. He wouldn’t tell her that his dreams of a life with her hadn’t changed, even though he knew that they could never come true. He wouldn’t ask for the explanation she so plainly didn’t want to give. He wouldn’t do anything that might cause her pain. But he had to take this last opportunity, to ask if she would still be a part of his life, because the alternative was unthinkable. </p>
<p>As he entered the kitchen she turned to him with a smile before a shadow came over her face as she looked away - this really was his last chance. “Anne,” he started, “I just want to say, want you to know - I understand why you don’t want to write to me, and it’s fine. I just, I...I miss you. Everyday, actually. Toronto is amazing, and the other students are great, but... But anyway, if you never want to write to me, I want you to know how happy I am that you are doing so well. And if you do, I need you to know that I would be so, so happy to receive a letter from you.”</p>
<p>She saw it then, as he broke eye contact to study the cap he was twisting in his hands. She saw the hurt, but also the hope that they could once again be more than the relative strangers that they would otherwise become. They had been friends before, <em>family,</em> and in the end she supposed he couldn’t help not loving her anymore than she could help loving him. And so she decided to try, knowing that being close to him again would be painful, but surely it would also be worth it? She took a deep breath in and held out a hand, “T-R-U-C-E?” </p>
<p>Gilbert grinned as he took her hand, ready to make a joke about spelling contests and medical terminology, when a full-bodied shiver ran through her. “You need to warm up, Anne - I’ve got a good fire going and there seems to be plenty of firewood for the evening,” he said, guiding her to the sitting room before continuing, “If you have everything you need I’ll be off, then.”</p>
<p>“What? Don’t be ridiculous, Gilbert,” Anne said incredulously. “You know you can't possibly leave. It will be dark soon, and that storm will soon be a blizzard. You’ll have to stay here for the night.”</p>
<p>Gilbert realised immediately that he should have anticipated this. But he hadn’t realised just how quickly the storm would worsen and he expected to have made the journey to Green Gables and back well before sunset. He knew she was right, only a fool would go back out now, but still, to be here with her, all night, <em>alone…</em></p>
<p>“Are you sure, Anne? I don’t want to put you out, and I don’t like to think about what Mrs Lynde would say if she found out I stayed here.”</p>
<p>“Well, as Marilla would say, fiddlesticks. Even Mrs Lynde wouldn’t expect you to risk your life for the sake of propriety. And besides, we’re friends, aren’t we?</p>
<p>“Yes, of course we are,” Gilbert said, drawing a deep breath and swallowing hard, <em>“friends.</em> I’ll just, uh, go out and put the horse away. I’ll put down some extra feed while I’m out there, just in case.”</p>
<p>As soon as he was out the door Anne turned to the fire, blowing out a large breath as she reviewed the afternoon’s events. She was happy, wasn’t she? Of course she was, how could she not be? Until now it had seemed she would have to live a life without any Gilbert in it, and now they could be friends again. That was certainly better than the alternative. So why was she filled with a hollow ache as she contemplated the future with him restored? She supposed it was because she knew that that future would involve letters, likely to dwindle as time went on, until only the most momentous of news was communicated. And then family visits, holidays spent together, though she was sure he would eventually bring his...his wife. </p>
<p>That was it. She could imagine a future in which she and Gilbert were good friends, after all their past had been just that. What she couldn’t imagine, try though she would, was a world in which he had a wife - and it wasn’t her. </p>
<p>Her train of thought was interrupted by another shiver, if such a quaking from head to toe could be contained in such a small word, but this time it was actually caused by the cold, as opposed to the warmth of his hand before. She was freezing! <em>“Well, of course I am!”</em> she thought to herself, <em>“My stockings are wet! Not to mention my dress, and my hair! Marilla would tell me I’ll catch my death.”</em> </p>
<p>Without thinking she set to work, humming softly to distract her errant thoughts as she took off first one stocking and then the other, draping them near the fire to dry. Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice Gilbert walk in just as she was rolling down her second stocking. She didn’t notice him freeze in the doorway, completely stunned by the scene before him. She didn’t notice the intent look in his eyes. Instead, she continued her work, hitching up her dress just a few inches to reveal the beautiful lace- and ribbon-trimmed petticoat underneath (it had been a gift from Cole, ordered all the way from Paris and with a forest-green ribbon chosen just for her). She knew it would stand no chance of drying through the weight of her outer layers, but if she hitched her skirt up just a few inches both skirt and petticoat would be exposed to the heat of the fire. Finally she began to slowly remove the pins from her hair - it was only slightly damp, the work of snowflakes melting as they fell rather than being trailed through eight inches of snow, but she knew from experience that it would take hours to dry if left up, and she really was very cold.</p>
<p>Gilbert was transfixed. He knew that he should do something, anything, either walk back out of the room, or at least alert her to his presence. But the fact was that this was rather uncomfortably close to some of the more, <em>ahem,</em> indelicate fantasies that he had indulged in, and he couldn’t quite find the strength to look away. But when she let her hair down, he knew he could stay hidden no longer. To see Anne, his wonderful, beautiful, free-spirited Anne, barefoot and with her delicate petticoats on show, the roaring fire making her flowing hair positively glow - if he let her continue he didn’t think he could resist kissing her senseless in the blind hope that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t slap him for it. </p>
<p>
 He was disturbed from his reverie when she spotted him out of the corner of her eye. “Oh, Gilbert! You scared me! What are you doing in the doorway, come in! And could you help me, please? My hair will never dry if I leave it up, but I put so many pins in this morning and my fingers are still a bit numb from the cold. Would you check to see if I got them all?” she said distractedly as she began to slowly finger comb the ends of her waist-length hair. 
</p>
<p>
 Gilbert hesitated, swallowing thickly but not saying a word as he stepped in behind her. He reached forward and began to slowly, gently - <em>reverently</em> - run his hand through her hair. The heat from the fire had warmed it beneath his fingertips, and he didn’t think he had ever felt anything so soft. So distracted was he by this fantasy-come-to-life, Gilbert didn’t at first notice the way Anne reacted to his touch. She and Diana sometimes helped each other take down their hair, just like this, and that was pleasant enough. But when it was <em>him,</em> when it was <em>Gilbert…</em>
</p>
<p>
Anne let out a heavy, stuttered breath, and Gilbert felt himself react immediately, his eyes narrowing as his head snapped up. The atmosphere had gone from intense to electric in the space of a breath, and he couldn’t help himself as he stepped closer still, his chest just brushing her back, his hand still in her hair. “Anne…”
</p>
<p>
 He felt her tense under him and lent down ever so slightly, curving over her so that his head was only an inch from hers, his lips next to her ear as he whispered “Anne, <em>please…”</em> 
</p>
<p>
He was almost ashamed even as the words fell from his tongue, his tortured desire evident in his voice. He knew he shouldn’t beg, that it wasn’t fair to her. She had made her decision.
</p>
<p>
 But she was here in front of him for the first time in months, and it felt like magic, standing in front of a roaring fire as the blizzard howled outside, knowing they were safe and warm and <em>together.</em> And she was so <em>close,</em> he could smell the faint traces of lavender in her drying hair. And she was so, so beautiful. And he loved her, <em>God,</em> he loved her so much. 
</p>
<p>
 He didn’t even know what he was asking her for. <em>Please, look at me. Please, talk to me.</em> 
</p>
<p>
 <em>Please, love me back.</em>
 </p>
<p>
He let his hand fall from her hair to her waist, palm easily spanning her side as his long fingers wrapped around to the front of her hip, tugging her ever-so-gently back toward him. And for a moment, one glorious moment, he thought that perhaps she would melt into him, warm him from the inside like the fire glowing in front of them.
</p>
<p>But Anne wasn’t a gentle flame - she was an inferno. And when she stepped away and turned her furious gaze on him, he knew he was about to burn.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Glorious in its Fury</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so pleased that so many people have read, your comments and kudos are much appreciated. Hope you enjoy this one!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She didn’t think she had ever been so overwhelmed, so <em>consumed</em> before. Always one to experience strong emotions, even Anne wasn’t prepared for the burning anger which was taking over. Not two hours earlier he had proudly declared his intention to never lay a finger on her. But it would seem that he was a man of opportunity, and knowing how she felt he thought he would press his advantage. </p>
<p>“How dare you? How <em>dare</em> you? How can you be so <em>cruel?”</em> she spat, eyes flashing. </p>
<p>For a moment he simply gaped at her, unsure what was happening. He knew he had crossed a line, and she had every right to be angry, but <em>cruel?</em> When she had never so much as <em>mentioned</em> the letter in which he had offered her his heart? It was too much. </p>
<p>“I’m cruel? <em>I’m</em> cruel?!” he responded, voice rising with a corresponding anger. “You're the one who didn’t even <em>answer</em> me! You’re the one who never sent a single letter, even though I <em>know</em> Bash gave you my address. You’re the one who would barely look at me when we finally see each other for the first time in <em>months.</em> And I <em>am</em> sorry, I know that I crossed a line, but God, Anne, you’re finally right here in front of me, and <em>look</em> at you! And you’re asking me to help with your hair when you know, you <em>know</em> how I feel about you. I’m doing my best but, my god, Anne, what do you think I’m made of? Can’t you see how hard this is?”</p>
<p>For just a moment Anne was shocked into silence - she had never seen Gilbert angry before. But her silence was short lived as hurt drove her forward, told her to protect herself by lashing out at him. “Oh yes, that’s right, you never wanted to have to ‘lay a finger on me’ - poor Gilbert! This must be so very hard! Tell me, was it just my hair that filled you with such revulsion? Or did taking my hand disgust you as well?”</p>
<p>“What? Anne, I don’t know…”</p>
<p>“Do not mistake me, Mr Blythe; I may not be as beautiful and sophisticated as the women in Toronto, but I still have <em>feelings,</em> and toying with them like this is <em>cruel.”</em> </p>
<p>She wanted to stomp her foot in anger, but instead she closed her eyes and took a deep breath of heavily charged air. When they opened again, they were laced with something hard, and flat, and <em>final.</em> Gilbert was gripped by an icy dread, suddenly afraid of what was about to happen. </p>
<p>“I should have known better,” she said at last, her voice dull. “I thought I could move past my feelings, move past the letter, for the sake of our friendship, for the sake of our <em>family,</em> but now I know that I never will. You can stay here tonight, I would not see you in danger, but after this I don’t think we should see one another again.”</p>
<p>Gilbert’s heart simultaneously slammed against his chest and dropped into his shoes, beating so hard he was certain it would bruise. He knew he had behaved badly, she didn’t want him and he shouldn’t have pushed, but to never see her again? To never hear her laugh or watch her eyes light up with joy? To never hear her gentle encouragement, or counter her passionate argument? To live a life without Anne…</p>
<p>How could he?</p>
<p>“Anne, no, please, I promise it won’t ever happen again. We can be friends, we can make it work, <em>I</em> can make it work.” He took a hasty step toward her, arm extended, “Anne, <em>please…”</em> </p>
<p>She concentrated on the way her toes felt digging into the rug, staring at them intently as she said quietly “No, Gilbert, it’s too much. When you didn’t answer my letter in person I told myself that was answer enough,” his head, bowed with the weight of the coming blow, shot up - <em>he</em> didn’t respond to <em>her</em> letter? What letter??</p>
<p>“I knew that if you felt the same you would have told me, face to face. At Miss Stacy’s, when I asked if you had anything to say to me and you didn’t mention it, I assumed that was your way of letting me down gently. But this - Gilbert, I told you that I <em>loved</em> you, and I know that you don’t feel the same, but to know how I feel and to still treat me like this? It’s too much.” </p>
<p>She had looked up only briefly, so she didn’t see the emotions that chased each other across Gilbert’s expressive face, first heartbreak, then confusion, then the beginnings of a kind of desperate hope he had never expected to feel again.</p>
<p>She also didn’t see his face firm into a clear resolve before he crossed the room in two broad steps, cupping her cheek and meeting her eyes for a mere moment before he bent swiftly and pressed his lips tightly to hers. </p>
<p>Anne’s heart accelerated and her stomach lurched, reminding her of taking off in the hot air balloon at the fair. She catalogued the softness of his lips as they pressed into her own, the feel of his shirt under her fingers as her hands came up to lay flat against his chest, the rough scrape of his thumb against her cheek, the sound of his breath and the feel of it as he exhaled slowly through his nose, mouth still pressed firmly to hers. She responded for the briefest of moments, shifting her lips ever so slightly beneath his, before she pushed angrily away. Or rather, she tried to; Gilbert’s arm was wrapped around her, holding her loosely but with a steel she had no hope of escaping. He had no intention of letting her go - not now, not ever, <em>ever</em> again. </p>
<p>“What do you think y..”</p>
<p>“I love you. I’ve always loved you. I never received your letter, I don’t know what happened. I know we have a lot to talk about, but right now, Anne, please, I need to know...you loved me? Or you <em>love</em> me?”</p>
<p>Anne was in shock, incapable of taking in what was happening. He hadn’t received her letter? What was he talking about? How could he...what was he...why would…?</p>
<p>And then she realised that right then, in that moment, none of it mattered. There would be time to query the hurt and the confusion, to ask her questions and interrogate his answers, but he was right. Right now, there was only one thing that needed to be said. </p>
<p>“I...I...I love you. Now. Present tense.”</p>
<p>Anne watched, entranced, as a wild joy overtook him and he let out a triumphant sound somewhere between a laugh and a cheer. His face transformed as though all of heaven had opened before him, his eyebrows lifting and his dimples coming out in full force. But she only had a moment to admire him before his lips were on hers again, crashing into her with the inevitability of an ocean wave returning at long last to shore. </p>
<p>She had always thought that, when the man of her dreams first declared his love for her, it would be gentle. That he might carefully take her hand, as though she were made of blown glass, precious and fragile. He might gaze into her eyes and then press his lips ever-so-softly against hers, a mere whisper. She had thought that perhaps she would sigh in contentment before they turned away to gaze at their lightly entwined fingers, overcome with the purity of their love.</p>
<p>She had thought wrong. </p>
<p>She felt Gilbert’s hand move purposefully until it was at the small of her back, pulling her tighter and tighter still, until she was flush against him from chest to hip. His other hand remained at first on her cheek, his calloused thumb rough against her skin as he moved it back and forth in a slow arc, as if he was trying to convince himself that this was real. After a few moments, seemingly satisfied, his hand moved to cup the back of her head, spreading his fingers through her hair as he held her to him. She felt his entire body arc toward her, arching her slightly back as he tried to pull her ever closer. It wasn’t until he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, causing her to gasp sharply, that he pulled back to look her in the eye. </p>
<p>She had never seen him like this; she had never seen <em>anyone</em> like this. His eyes were so intense, she felt as though she were the only person in the entire world, that she had been put on this earth solely to experience this moment with Gilbert Blythe. And when had he become so tall? She knew that he was larger than her, but she had never <em>felt</em> it in quite this way before. Seeing that she wasn’t frightened, Gilbert began to slowly walk her backwards, never breaking eye contact as he guided her against the wall and then gently pressed her into it.</p>
<p>She was expecting to feel his lips once more on her own, so was completely unprepared when he moved instead to her neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the side of her throat with a passion that bordered on desperation. “Anne-girl, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he managed between kisses, making his way slowly up her neck to her ear. His voice was low and rasping as he said “I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve loved you for so long.” Whether it was the words themselves, or the way they were spoken (his voice was so <em>deep</em> and so <em>close</em>), or perhaps the exquisite electricity that shot through her when his teeth gently scraped her earlobe, she couldn’t say. But at that moment she let out a long, broken moan that had Gilbert answering with a low sound of his own, pressing impossibly tighter against her for just a moment before hastily taking a large step back.</p>
<p>They stared at one another, both with kiss-swollen lips and matching, dazed expressions, both entirely unsure of what came next. The silence stretched between them, punctuated by the sounds of their ragged breathing, until Gilbert’s stomach let out an audible rumble. The spell broken, they both laughed, Gilbert’s cheeks only the slightest shade of pink as he reached up to rub the back of his neck.</p>
<p>“Sorry about that. I, uh, I skipped lunch today,” he mumbled. </p>
<p>“What kind of host am I? Marilla would never forgive me if she found out I hadn’t fed you.”</p>
<p>He stepped forward to gently entwine their fingers, “Oh I can assure you, Carrots, Marilla will hear absolutely no complaints from me.”</p>
<p>Anne flushed at the nickname, though whether from pleasure or annoyance she couldn’t say. “Nevertheless, how does a picnic on the rug sound? We can stay warm in front of the fire while we talk.”</p>
<p>“There’s nothing I would love more than...<em>talking</em> with you in front of the fire,” he replied with a wink.</p>
<p>She swatted him lightly on the arm before turning to walk toward the kitchen. Gilbert moved to follow, not wanting to let her out of his sight, but she stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Just - I need just a minute. I have so many follow up questions and I can’t think with you like...this,” she said, vaguely gesturing toward him with her other hand.</p>
<p>He grinned at her confession before growing more serious, maintaining eye contact as he lifted her hand from his chest and placed a lingering kiss in the centre of her palm. “Take all the time you need, Anne-girl. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. All Things Washed Anew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much to everyone who has commented/left kudos, it really means a lot to me how well this has been received! One more chapter after this plus a fluffy little epilogue.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once in the kitchen and safely out of Gilbert’s sight Anne stopped, placing a hand on her stomach as the other drifted to her lips. She smiled, a small puff of laughter escaping as she remembered his kiss. Who would have guessed that “perfect gentleman” Gilbert Blythe, every mother’s dream suitor, “the pride of Avonlea,” could be so passionate? She supposed she always knew that he had little regard for propriety, but the way he had <em>unleashed</em> himself on her - it made her face grow warm and sent butterflies whirling in her stomach. </p>
<p>Anne shook her head, willing herself to focus on pulling together a tray while she tried to order her thoughts. At first all she could think of was the dawning understanding that Gilbert loved her, he <em>loved</em> her! But after a few moments the questions came, as she had known they would. She had lived the last four months with the gnawing pain of heartbreak, and while its cause was suddenly gone, it’s effects were not.</p>
<p>What on earth had happened all those weeks ago? How could he not have received her letter? Where had it gone? And how could she have misinterpreted his own so badly? What had it actually said? And what...what about Winifred? Some of her joy dimmed at the last thought, the butterflies in her stomach making way for a slightly queasy feeling. </p>
<p>Suppose he had asked Winifred to marry him and she had turned him down? Perhaps he had lost his dream of studying at the Sorbonne with a beautiful blonde wife by his side and decided Anne was a suitable consolation prize. Even now he must be surrounded by beautiful, intelligent, sophisticated young women in Toronto, perhaps this was just a holiday dalliance before one of them turned his head. After all, she was just a poor orphan with red hair and freckles who had spent the better part of the last half hour (and, if she was honest, their relationship) shouting at him.</p>
<p>She continued for a moment before stopping and vigorously shaking her head - she refused to let herself think this way, to travel along the well-worn path of insecurity and doubt. She knew better now, she <em>deserved</em> better. She was not just a poor orphan, she was a young woman who had survived more than most could imagine. She was Walter and Bertha Shirley’s daughter, and she was Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert’s daughter. She was top of her class at Queens, she was loved and she was <em>worthy.</em> And maybe, just maybe, if the young men who came to Blackmore House and the rumours at Queens were to be believed, she was just a bit beautiful, too. Anne had come to see that she had so many wonderful qualities, but a childhood of being constantly taunted for her looks had left its mark, and when she compared herself with beautiful, blonde, perfect <em>Winifred...</em></p>
<p>She shook her head one more time, squaring her shoulders as she lifted the tray. Happiness was waiting for her in the next room, and the only way to find answers to her questions was to be brave and ask. </p>
<p>When she entered the sitting room she had just a moment to admire Gilbert before he saw her. He was standing in front of the fire, hands in his pockets, occasionally rocking back onto his heels. He was absolutely beaming - she didn’t think she had ever seen him like this. He had taken off his shoes and socks (they must have been as wet as hers) and placed them next to the fire, and she noticed that he had undone the top button of his collar and rolled up his sleeves to just below the elbow. He looked...like a dream.</p>
<p>Gilbert’s grin grew impossibly wider as he saw her enter the room and rushed to take the tray from her. “Gilbert, you know I’m perfectly capable of carrying a tray by myself,” she teased, reminding him of their old rivalry.</p>
<p>“I know, I just wanted an excuse to do this,” he responded as he bent to place a chaste but lingering kiss on her cheek. They were soon sitting comfortably on the rug in front of the fire, catching up on all that had happened over the past four months.</p>
<p>“I swear! You should have heard the dressing down Josie gave him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so red...” </p>
<p>“It’s harder than I expected, but I’ve been so lucky to work with Dr Oak - she’s researching the use of anti-toxins and you would be amazed...” </p>
<p>“Professor Ainsley seems to think I might have some success if I were to submit it for publication, but I’m sure it’s not my best work...”</p>
<p>They kept the conversation light as they ate, as if by unspoken agreement. When they finished Gilbert went to add a few more logs to the fire while Anne took their things back to the kitchen and retrieved some extra blankets - the temperature outside had dropped sharply and the chill was beginning to creep in. They sat back down on the floor in front of the fire, a bit nearer to one another this time. Neither knew quite what to say, so Anne took a deep breath and said “Shall we start at the beginning?”</p>
<p>“You mean the day we met?” he responded, a happy but slightly embarrassed smile on his lips as he slowly rubbed the back of his neck. He knew he needed to be completely honest with her now, even if it meant admitting that he had been a lovesick fool even when she would barely look at him. </p>
<p>Anne gasped, “Gilbert Blythe! <em>That</em> was the beginning? That was <em>years</em> ago!”</p>
<p>“I know,” he responded, lightly taking her hand. “And maybe I didn’t love you then, not really, not the way I do now.  But I certainly <em>liked</em> you, very much. And then as we started to spend more time together, especially after Bash and I came back, and then with Mary...the time I spent here with you, or when you were over helping with Dellie, were the best parts of my day. I got to know you, the real you, the Anne that’s full of kindness and compassion, who treats everyone as though they have an incredible story just waiting to be discovered. I got to know your incomparable imagination and saw every day the way your warmth and joy and passion bring everyone around you to life. Anne-girl, I couldn’t help but love you. I always have, and I always will.”</p>
<p>For several moments Anne just stared, amazed. For so many years she had been alone, had been taunted and teased. Then she had come to Avonlea, and she had found friends and family and a happiness she had never expected, but even so she had been certain that she would never find anyone to love her, not romantically. And the whole time, he had been right there, just waiting for her to notice. She started to smile when, suddenly, the hurt that she had been nursing these past four months rose sharply to the surface, surprising her with its strength. </p>
<p>“Then why?” she choked out, pulling back as she sobbed “If you loved me, why Winifred?” </p>
<p>He had dreaded the question even as he knew it had to come, but her clear devastation - devastation that he had caused - was too much. Tears sprang to the corners of his eyes as he reached out to cover her hand with his own once more, relieved when she allowed the contact. He spoke swiftly, the words tumbling out in a torrent. “I was stupid, Anne, I was so, so stupid. That day on the train - God, I was so excited! To be spending time with you, just the two of us - I must have lain awake for hours the night before, planning what I would say, just hoping that maybe this was my shot. And then you were so angry at me, and I didn’t understand <em>why</em>. I was devastated, Anne, and I told myself that you clearly wanted nothing to do with me, that you never would...” She looked away, and he felt his heart break a little more, but he needed to tell her all of it if they were ever going to move past it.</p>
<p>“The thing is I knew, even then, that I would never love anyone but you. I truly thought you would never think of me that way, and I should have had the courage to accept that. But I was afraid, Anne. I…” he took a deep breath, trying to explain what he had been thinking, what he had been <em>feeling,</em> back then. He had spent more sleepless nights than he cared to remember thinking about it since.</p>
<p>“After my dad died, I was alone. Even before he died, in some ways. And I was so lonely, Anne. That’s why I left Avonlea, I couldn’t face an empty house. And I remembered, when I was young, how lonely my dad had been - I know he had me, and I know that he loved me, but even as a child I could see how much he missed my mother, how hard it was for him to be on his own. I knew, Anne, I knew that I would never love anyone but you - so what did it mean for me if the only girl I could ever love, didn’t love me back?”</p>
<p>“But, Gil, you had never even asked me!” she interrupted. “How could you decide that I could never feel the same way without even talking to me?” she demanded. </p>
<p>“I know, Anne, and I don’t have a good explanation. Before that day I had never let myself think about it; I knew there were no guarantees, but I always believed that one one day I would at least have a chance - I never let myself consider the alternative. Then that day, when you were so unhappy spending time with me, and then so excited to see Cole, it was just… it was too much. I was - I was a coward, really. I think I thought it was better to believe you couldn’t love me than to know it, does that make sense? I couldn’t bear to hear you say it, so I didn’t ask. And it was that afternoon that Winnie and I went to tea for the first time. I never felt about her the way I did about you, I knew I never could, but I tried to tell myself that liking her could be enough. It was a mistake, and I know that it was wrong. I hurt her and I hurt myself, and worst of all I hurt you. I’m so, so sorry Anne.” </p>
<p>“What do you mean, you hurt her? Isn’t she - I mean, I thought - didn’t she turn you down?”</p>
<p>“What? No! I never - I told you that I didn’t propose, that I couldn’t! I was a fool, I won’t deny it, but I came to my senses. I accepted that if I couldn’t be with you I would just...be alone.” </p>
<p>“Gilbert, what are you talking about? When did you tell me? I thought you were going to marry her! I was sure of it!”</p>
<p>“In my letter, the one I left in your room. I don’t understand what happened, I thought I was so clear, but you obviously didn’t understand…”. </p>
<p>“I ripped it up,” Anne whispered, interrupting him.</p>
<p>“You… you what? <em>Why?”</em> he responded, incredulous. </p>
<p>“I was so angry at you, I think I must have decided I knew what the letter said without even reading it, just like you decided I couldn’t love you without talking to me. I was certain you were going to marry her, and I didn’t want to see the words. I was so hurt that you couldn’t even be bothered to tell me in person, that you didn’t even care that much, despite my letter, despite everything we had been through.”</p>
<p>“Anne,” he said, his voice intent, “what did your letter say?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Overwhelming Tide</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the last real chapter with a little epilogue to follow - it will likely be a bit longer before I get it posted, but hopefully not too long! </p>
<p>Thank you again to everyone who's read/commented/left kudos. This was my first, and quite possibly only, foray into fanfiction, so it is much appreciated!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Anne,” he said, his voice intent, “what did your letter say?”</em>
</p>
<p>“Oh, um...” Anne didn’t know why it was so hard to say out loud. But she had been brave when she had written the letter, she could be brave again. She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “It said I was sorry that I had been confused, but that I wasn’t anymore - that I loved you. And that I wanted my pen back.”</p>
<p>“Anne, I <em>swear</em> I never got your letter, I didn’t even know it existed until tonight. If I had read that I would have run straight here, I would have...I would have <em>flown</em>.” He reached out slowly, giving her a chance to move away, a chance to say she wasn’t ready, before gently caressing her cheek.  “I love you so much, and tonight, when you told me that you loved me, too - it was all I’ve ever wanted,” he said as he began to lean in. </p>
<p>She pulled back, temper flaring again as his words returned unbidden to her mind. “Then why were you so cruel about me this morning?”</p>
<p>“What? What are you talking about?” Gilbert responded, confused and <br/>reeling from the sudden change in tone.</p>
<p>“I know I’m not beautiful, but you say that you <em>love</em> me, Gilbert. If that’s true, why would you say such unkind things about me? I’ve heard it all my life, but I never thought I would hear it from you,” she said, tears in her eyes. </p>
<p>“Anne, I still don’t know what you’re talking about. Bash was teasing me this morning, but Bash has <em>always</em> teased me about you, ever since we were on the ship.” </p>
<p>“I heard you, Gilbert! I heard you say you would never lay a finger on me!” she responded, chin tilting up mutinously as she crossed her arms protectively across her chest.</p>
<p>Understanding dawning, he hastened to explain, “That’s not what I meant! I meant I would never lay a finger on you because you would never want me to! Anne, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen!”</p>
<p>Anne scoffed, “Please, Gilbert, what about…”</p>
<p>“Anne, you are <em>incomparable,</em> I’ve never seen your equal. You are all I’ve ever wanted,” he interrupted, stopping her before she could venture down this well-worn path. “You’re all I ever <em>will</em> want. There could never be anyone for me but you - I <em>love</em> you.”</p>
<p>This time, when his lips met hers, it was gentle, slow, determined. He needed her to feel, to really <em>understand,</em> that his passion was for her and her alone. When at last he pulled back he kept his hand on the back of her head, holding her close as he looked into her eyes. “Do you believe me?” he asked quietly, never looking away.</p>
<p>It was with no little surprise that Anne responded, voice tremulous, “I do.” </p>
<p>----------</p>
<p>The ferocity of the storm only grew, until looking out of the windows revealed an impenetrable wall of white. The temperature both inside and out continued to drop steadily, but the occupants of Green Gables didn’t notice, or if they did it was only to be grateful for the excuse it gave them to move ever closer together, both marvelling at how natural it felt. They sat together on the floor, backs against the sofa, a shared blanket wrapped around their shoulders as Gilbert stretched his feet toward the fire and Anne tucked hers under herself - a circle of warmth and happiness that neither the ravages of the storm nor the pain of the past could penetrate. </p>
<p>“I saw her once, you know,” Anne said quietly, not lifting her head from its place on his chest. At his evident confusion she elaborated, “Winifred. I was exploring Charlottetown, that first day, and I saw her waiting for a carriage to be loaded. I think she saw me, but she turned away and went inside before I could say hello. She must have been about to leave for Paris, and I still believed you were going with her. For weeks I thought - it wasn’t until I returned to Avonlea in October that I realised you weren’t engaged.”</p>
<p>His arms tightened around her as he said “I never could be, Anne. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m so sorry that I made you doubt that, but I need you to know it, to really understand. I told you that I was afraid of being alone, but I realised that if I didn’t marry for love I always would be. When I thought you could never love me, I had to accept that I would need to do my best to build a good and honest life - on my own. I could never marry a woman I didn’t love, which means I could never marry anyone but you, Anne-girl. That’s what I said in my letter.”</p>
<p>“Ah yes, the infamous letter,” she said, a hint of a smile at her lips. She sat up slightly, staying close as she met his eyes. “What exactly did it say, Gil? It seems I misinterpreted it rather badly.”</p>
<p>He smiled at the nickname, at the lightness in her tone. “Hmmmm, it was a bit more <em>detailed</em> than yours, but I believe it said that <em>you</em> are the fond object of my affection,” he said as he lifted her hand and pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles, “and my desire,” he continued, holding her gaze as he turned her hand and pressed a long, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her wrist. He moved slowly to place his lips against her ear, just brushing it as he continued “I said that you alone are the keeper of the key to my heart,” delighting at the way she shivered in reaction. “I said that I’m not engaged,” he continued, kissing her cheek, “and that I never will be,” he kissed the other, “unless it’s to you,” he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. Finally he pulled back to look her once again in the eye, willing her to see his sincerity as he took both of her hands in his and declared “I said that it always has been, and always, <em>always</em> will be - <em>you.”</em></p>
<p>This time it was Anne that surged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as she brought their lips together. He quickly followed her lead, pulling her close and moaning slightly as he felt her tongue graze his bottom lip, only to repeat the performance when his mouth opened under hers and her tongue tangled with his. Gilbert had imagined this moment, had <em>dreamed</em> of it, for longer than he cared to remember. To have Anne, <em>his</em> Anne at last, turning the strength of her love and her passion on him after years of his quiet yearning, he knew that he would be consumed. Even so, he wasn’t prepared for the overwhelming tide of it, the depth of the desire that he had strained for so long to hold back.</p>
<p>He <em>wanted</em> - he wanted so <em>much.</em> He wanted to undo the buttons on her collar and move his lips slowly down the column of her throat. He wanted to sink his hands into her hair, holding her to him as he explored every corner of her mouth. He wanted to lay her gently down on the rug, to feel her entire body trembling underneath him as he settled over her. He wanted to explore the soft expanse of her stocking-free legs, revealed now as her dress hitched up between them. He wanted to gather that dress in his hands and bring it higher still, revealing even more of her creamy skin. He wanted...her. All of her.</p>
<p>But despite what he wanted, he knew that what he needed was to move slowly, to give her time to adjust to their new relationship. And so when, after several long minutes, she pulled back, he simply wrapped his arms around her and settled them back against the couch. </p>
<p>She once again pressed into his side, resting her head on his chest and her hand on his opposite shoulder. He held her tightly, alternating between drawing circles on her back and drawing his hand through the glorious red hair that he loved so much. When Gilbert sighed in contentment, saying “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in my life as I am right now,” Anne could only murmur that she felt the same before snuggling in closer, smiling as she felt the answering squeeze of his arms.</p>
<p>“Anne-girl, I have to tell you… I need you to know…” he took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “When I said that I would never be engaged to anyone but you, I meant it. And I just, I want you to know - that’s what I want. Not now, not yet, I know we’re still young and we both have things to accomplish. But I’m going to be so far away, and I know it won’t always be easy. So I need you to know - I want to court you now, and when the time comes, I want to marry you. You don’t need to say anything, you don’t need to know right now. But after all that’s gone wrong between us, after I almost lost you, I needed you to know.”</p>
<p>She brought her hand up to his cheek and he turned into her touch, pressing his lips gently against the palm of her hand before turning back to meet her eyes. “Earlier, when we said we would be friends again, I tried to imagine what that would look like, and for the first time in my life my imagination failed me. I knew you would marry one day, and I just couldn’t imagine a future in which you had a wife - and it wasn’t me. But somehow, now, I can see it, I can see our future <em>together.</em> I don’t know the path we will take to get there, and I’m sure there will be many bends in the road, but I know this - one day there will be a wedding, and a family, and a home filled with noise and laughter and so, so much love. And there will be hard days, too, because there always are. But from now on, we can face those hard days together, and you will know that at the end of them you will have me to come home to - I love you, Gilbert Blythe, and you will never, never be alone.”</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. I to Thee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here it is, the final chapter! Thank you all for coming along this journey with me, I've had so much fun writing this. This was my first ever fanfic, and may well be my last (unless inspiration strikes!), so I really appreciate all the comments and kudos. I hope you enjoy this last bit!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Gilbert awoke the first time that night, his first thought was to wonder if he was back in Toronto. He had never grown entirely comfortable in his boarding house, and in his sleep-addled state supposed it might just feel particularly alien after the familiarity of home. The joy that overtook him shone all the more, then, when he realised where he was, his grin so bright it would have lit up the dark room (Matthew’s, he now remembered) had anyone been there to see. It all came flooding back - a night of whispered confessions in front of a roaring fire, ocean blue eyes and flaming red hair, comforting touches and passionate embraces. Anne loved him, she <em>loved</em> him! He had to remind himself that, while he may feel it, it was not medically possible for him to be invincible. </p><p>He stared at the ceiling as he recalled how he had watched her eyelids growing slowly heavier as the fire died down, until she was nearly asleep in his arms. He had kissed her temple gently, inhaling her lavender scent, before he whispered “I think you need to get to bed, Anne-girl.” She murmured a protest and burrowed closer to him, clearly with no intention of actually moving. He chuckled softly before pulling out his ace - “What do you think Marilla will say if we fall asleep and she finds us like this in the morning?” He laughed out loud when he remembered how she had sat bolt upright, her eyes darting to the door, before relaxing with a nod and a laugh of her own.</p><p>“You can sleep in Matthew’s room, he won’t mind and I made up the bed after our picnic earlier,” she said.</p><p>“Well then,” Gilbert had replied, standing up and extending a hand to her, quietly thrilled when she unquestioningly placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her up and then pull her close. “Shall I escort you to your door?” </p><p>“Certainly not!” replied Anne with a grin. “I intend to be able to <em>truthfully</em> tell Marilla that you didn’t set a single foot upstairs. If, however, you were to walk with me to the bottom of the steps, and if we then spent a few minutes saying an <em>appropriate</em> goodnight, well - I don’t suppose she’s likely to ask about the particulars.”  </p><p>Lost in his reminiscence about what had certainly been more than a few minutes (and had definitely fallen far short of “appropriate”), and with the wind back to a full-blown howl, Gilbert almost missed the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. He jumped out of bed, shocked at the freezing temperature as he went to investigate. </p><p>He walked to the sitting room to see Anne, standing in front of the fireplace with a blanket draped over her shoulders. Her hair was in one long, loose braid down her back, though much of it appeared to be escaping, and she was wearing a white nightdress with a light blue dressing gown thrown over it. He noticed that she was clutching the ends of the blanket tightly together while attempting, unsuccessfully, to add a log to the fire with one hand.</p><p>And she looked absolutely miserable. </p><p>“Anne?” he said, startling her so much that she dropped the log she was holding onto the floor, narrowly missing her foot. Inexplicably, her face crumpled and she looked on the verge of tears. He hurried across the floor, wrapping his arms around her as he said “What’s the matter sweetheart?”</p><p>She smiled just a bit at the endearment. “I’m so sorry I woke you, I feel so silly and I know I should just get on with it but it’s just… I’m just… Oh Gilbert, I know it’s ridiculous, but I’m just so cold!” she wailed. </p><p>“That’s not ridiculous, Anne-girl - it’s freezing in here, I can’t imagine what the temperature is like outside. Here, let me…” he said, pulling the blanket tightly around her shoulders before turning to add more logs to the fire.</p><p>“I just hate to be cold, especially when I’m trying to sleep. Ever since… Well, let’s just say that warmth and comfort were not top priorities at the orphanage, and the Hammonds never seemed to have enough blankets, at least not enough to give to me. On nights like this Marilla usually heats a brick and leaves it in my bed for me, I suppose it’s one of the ways that she shows she loves me - she knows how much I love to be warm. But I just didn’t think of it tonight and now the fire has died down and I’m so <em>cold</em>,” she continued miserably, embarrassed and aware that she was prattling to cover it. </p><p>Gilbert, for his part, loved hearing her speak about anything, and was grateful to be told this little snippet of her past - something he knew Anne didn’t like to discuss. He listened carefully as he stoked a roaring fire and, once satisfied with his handiwork, moved to stand behind her. He removed the blanket from her shoulders to wrap his arms around her waist, then positioned them both so that she would have the heat from the fire in front and his own heat warming her behind, before draping the blanket back around them both. “Don’t worry Anne-girl,” he said as he kissed her temple, “I’ll keep you warm.”</p><p>After neither knew how long, Anne reluctantly said what they both knew to be true - that it was very, very late and they would both need to be well rested for the day ahead, with it likely to be a major undertaking just to get out the front door. “I know we need to go back to bed,” she said with obvious reluctance, “but I just can’t seem to make my feet obey me when it’s so deliciously cosy here and I think about how absolutely frigid it will be upstairs.”</p><p>Gilbert looked at her for a minute, considering, before he started grabbing the spare blankets she had brought in earlier, arranging them into a makeshift mattress on the rug with more piled on top. As soon as she saw what he was doing she ran to her room to grab her pillow. </p><p>“There now, all done,” Gilbert said, admiring their handiwork. “Hopefully this will keep you nice and warm, Anne-girl.” </p><p>“Oh, Gil, this is positively inspired - what a brilliant idea!” she replied. </p><p>“My dad and I used to do it, on the very coldest days - it made the hardest winter nights into an adventure,” he grinned, stepping beside her and wrapping an arm around her waist before pressing his lips to her cheek. “Goodnight, Anne-girl, I’ll see you in the morning.”</p><p>“Wait - you aren’t staying?” she asked, confused. His room would be just as cold as hers, and there really was plenty of room. </p><p>Gilbert paused - he wanted to stay with her, of course he did, but this was all so new, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable. “I’ll be fine, I’m used to sleeping in some fairly uncomfortable conditions,” he said with a smile. </p><p>“Please, Gil, stay? I mean, I want you to - not that I want to… I mean, I don’t want to do any…” she forced herself to take a deep breath, grateful that the warmth from the fire would account for the flush in her cheeks. “Soon you’ll be so far away, and even when we’re in the same place we aren’t likely to have another night like this; it feels like a gift. I want...will you just hold me? Keep me warm?”</p><p>Gilbert didn’t need to be asked twice. He sat down on the blankets before gently tugging on her hand, brushing his lips against her knuckles before laying down and guiding her next to him. Even with the thick rug and a few blankets underneath, it wasn’t the softest bed. But when Anne curled into his side, sighing in contentment as his arm came around her, Gilbert didn’t think he had ever been more comfortable.</p><p>----------------</p><p>When Gilbert awoke the second time that night, it was to the bright embers of the fire and the even brighter flames of Anne’s hair, now entirely free of its braid. He watched her sleep for a moment, thanking every star in the heavens, before pulling her closer and closing his eyes. Earlier his joy had been unfettered, as brilliant and powerful as a wildfire, and he knew that feeling would return, over and over again, as he explored his relationship with Anne. </p><p>But here, now, safe and warm on a long winter night, with this amazing sprite of a girl pressed tightly to him, he was filled with a more gentle but no less overpowering contentment - the heat of embers rather than a wildfire, constant and warm with no risk of burning out. He turned and pressed a gentle kiss to her head - once, twice, three times - before whispering “Good night, my Anne with an E.”</p><p>In the morning, he knew, there would be much to discuss, a future to begin to plan - <em>together</em>. They would speak to Matthew and Marilla together as well, it may not be traditional, but he knew she would want to be there. Bash he would tell alone.</p><p>Gilbert could just imagine his reaction - teasing didn’t begin to cover it. He would remind Gilbert of every lovesick thing he had ever done, every longing glance, every stumbled declaration that Anne was “just a friend.” He would laugh so hard he would cry, pointing out that he had been right all along when he spent years calling Gilbert a moke who refused to admit what anyone with eyes could see. Yes, Bash would be utterly merciless. </p><p>He couldn’t wait.</p>
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